


Tree Surgery

by M J Holyoke (wholeyolk)



Category: Original Work
Genre: Every Woman 2018, F/F, Femslash, Fluff, Mild Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-21
Updated: 2018-07-21
Packaged: 2019-05-21 16:11:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 598
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14918612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wholeyolk/pseuds/M%20J%20Holyoke
Summary: It wasn’t the kind of thing you might watch in a movie or read in a book. It didn’t require some kind of dimension-hopping superpower or some kind of magical sight. Really, if it required “sight” at all, it was adifferentway of seeing things that was needed—and of seeing the trees in particular.





	Tree Surgery

**Author's Note:**

  * For [gwenfrankenstien](https://archiveofourown.org/users/gwenfrankenstien/gifts).



“All done.”

“Really?” Helen rushed forward to help Gregory out of his harness.

“Hehe, definitely.” Gregory favored her with an amused smile and wiped the sweat and sawdust from his forehead.

“Oh, that’s fantastic! I was so incredibly worried!” she burbled at him as they worked together to pack up his gear and load it into the back of his pickup truck.

“Worried … about a tree?” His amused smile widened.

“Well, sure.” This was such a relief; it was hard not to let her happiness show. Still, she knew she mustn’t raise suspicions. Helen tamped down her enthusiasm with no small amount of effort and tried for pragmatism instead. “This isn’t just any tree. You know how much in tourist dollars she and her sisters bring in per annum?”

“I guess I can imagine,” Gregory said with a shrug.

“You do that.”

Together, they gazed up towards the heavens. The work he had just completed was over two-hundred feet above their heads, so high that it was impossible to see from the forest floor.

“Right. So, I removed three dead boughs,” he said. “The rest of her should be getting plenty of sunlight now.”

Helen nodded. “You know where to send the invoice.”

“That I do. Want a ride back to the lodge?”

“Nah, I’m good. It’s a gorgeous afternoon. Perfect for a walk, you know? Thanks, though.”

“Whatever.” Gregory got into his pickup. He waved goodbye at Helen out of the open window as he drove off.

Helen had been telling the truth: It _was_ a gorgeous afternoon. The weather was mild; the air was sweet and filled with birdsong.

However, she hadn’t stayed behind to take a leisurely nature walk—no, not as such.

 

* * *

 

It wasn’t the kind of thing you might watch in a movie or read in a book. It didn’t require some kind of dimension-hopping superpower or magical sight. Really, if it required “sight” at all, it was a _different_ way of seeing things that was needed—and of seeing the trees in particular.

But Helen was a park ranger, and she’d been in the profession for sixteen years. This was her _job_.

“How are you feeling?” she asked.

The woman lying curled up at the base of the giant sequoia tree opened her eyes. They were so deeply green they were almost black, and her skin was the same red-brown as the tree bark. “Mmm,” she murmured softly, “I’m not sure. Tired. Still weak, I suppose …”

Helen knelt down beside the woman and stroked her long, black hair. Although she looked weak and frail, she was, Helen knew, already on the road to a full recovery. “It will take a few days at least—if not a week or more—for the effects of the surgery to become apparent to you. But the prognosis is excellent. With any luck, you’ll live to see your four-thousandth birthday!”

“You’ll have to bake me a cake.”

The two women laughed together, full of affection. They both knew that this woman never ate cake. She didn’t need cake; she needed air and water … and sunlight. Gregory had just seen to that last bit.

“I’ll sing you ‘Happy Birthday’ myself, Sana,” Helen vowed.

“I’ll be expecting a kiss as well.”

“You can have that now.”

“Really?” Sana lifted her arms toward Helen expectantly.

“Hehe, definitely.”

They kissed.

It may have been a job, but when Helen was wrapped in Sana’s embrace, it didn’t feel like a job. Nope, not in the slightest. Instead, it felt like a blessing … which, you know, it kind of _was_.

 

* * *

_~ The End ~_

* * *


End file.
